Devil in the Darkness
by Aquitaine85
Summary: When circumstances conspire to literally trap Peter and Assumpta alone together, they must confront more than their fears.
1. Chapter 1

_Everyone was so nice with their comments for my first story, I thought I'd give this other idea I had a go. This will be multi chapter, though I'm not sure how long it will be yet. That depends on whether you guys like it I guess _

_Did anyone else think that maybe Peter was afraid of the dark? In the sweating statue episode when Ambrose and Peter are caught by Father Mac in the church, Peter says how it can get surprisingly lonely in the dark. Then in the famous Killashee scene when everyone leaves Peter and Assumpta at the site she mentions that if he's afraid of the dark she'll stay with him, and he seems really relieved. Anyway I thought I'd explore this idea, along with others._

_This story starts at the beginning of the bittersweet Reckoning episode. _

_Please assume that everything leading up to this point is the same as the show. (Though as you will discover in my story Ambrose is not hell bent on spoiling the fun and arresting everyone!)_

Assumpta was crawling on the floor of the darkened cellar looking for the fuse.

She felt Peter brush up against her in the darkness and the warmth of his arm traveled up her body and caused a blush to form on her cheeks. Thank god for the darkness she thought.

But then she noticed something else, he was shaking. Concern immediately overtook any embarrassment she felt.

"Peter, you're shivering"

"I know" he replied in a quiet, dejected voice.

"Why?"

"Lots of things"

"Oh of course, your mother?"

"My mother, my life"

"The little things" she said, a poor attempt at making him smile.

It worked though, as Peter lightly chuckled, "Yeah"

"You guys ok down there?" Padraigshouted from the top of the steps leading down into the cellar.

"Yeah we're fine Padraig!" She turned back to face Peter, "Another time"

Peter looked back at her and smiled, thankful for her friendship. God knew he needed a friend right now. He didn't quite know what he wanted to say, but he knew he didn't want to say it to anyone else.

As others began to descend into the cellar the fuse was eventually found and replaced, flooding the cellar with a dim, fluorescent light. Assumpta let out a few glib remarks, inwardly annoyed that they had interrupted her and Peter's conversation. In a huff, she was the first to climb back up the stairs and into the bar. One by one the others emerged and made their way back to their seats, except for Peter who headed straight for the bathroom.

Padraig was the last to emerge from the cellar.

He went to close the hatch door over the stairs when Assumpta shouted at him from the other end of the bar.

"Don't!"

Padraig looked around in surprise at Assumpta's loud retort.

"What's wrong with ya?" he replied, matching her tone.

"Don't close the cellar door properly, the latch is broken. If you close it completely I won't be able to get it open again without a crow-bar. Here, stick this under it."

She threw him a small wooden wedge which he dutifully placed down the side of the trap door, stopping it from fully closing.

Brendan looked over from his usual place at the bar.

"If I went down there and got looked in, I would have one hell of a time!"

"If I caught you," Assumpta acidly replied, "you would have one hell of a bill."

"And one hell of a headache I'd imagine" Siobhan piped in.

They all started to laugh as Peter reemerged from the bathroom.

"What's the joke?" he said, looking around at their amused faces.

"Nothing Father, here have a drink" Brendan replied handing Peter back his pint.

The evening continued much the same, everyone enjoying the food and the company, but mostly the beer.

About an hour later Assumpta began to make thinly veiled comments about wanting to close the pub.

"Will you all ever bog off home?"

"Ahh Assumpta, we could drink at home, but it's that sparkling wit and those charming manners we come for" Brendan smiled at her over the top of his pint.

"Well you can come and sample it again tomorrow, I promise to have some extra special remarks aside for you" she smiled wickedly back at him.

Brendan laughed and drained the remainder of his drink. "Come on then, away with us all to our beds, before she makes us clean up this mess! Night Assumpta"

He waved as he walked out the door, Siobhan and Padraig at his heels, all yelling out their own goodbyes.

As the pub began to empty Peter thought of his cold and empty house waiting for him and didn't have any urge to leave so soon. In an effort to prolong the inevitable he began to idly gather plates and glasses and take them through to the kitchen. He didn't fancy going home with nothing but his thoughts for company; they were likely to drive him mad if he gave them free range.

As the last customer made for the door Assumpta followed them, waving goodbye, and closed and locked it behind them. She turned and lent her back against the door as Peter remerged from the kitchen.

"Training for a second career?" She smiled up at him.

"Yeah, gotta keep my options open" he smiled back and continued to clear the tables. She tried not to read too much into the comment, a habit of hers when Peter said, well, just about anything really.

Assumpta, glad of the help, especially from Peter, moved around him and began to clear the bar. Apart from their brief encounter in the cellar earlier in the evening she hadn't spoken to him alone, and despite her concern she thought it best not to broach the subject of his mum until he did.

As the bar began to resemble some semblance of normality again Assumpta thought it probably best to change the stout barrel now rather than leave it for the morning, something she always hated to have to do first thing.

She removed the wedge from the trap door and lent it half open against an empty crate and descended into the cellar. A few minutes later a loud crash emanated from down below.

"Assumpta! You alright?" Peter shouted, who, after hearing the bang, had come out of the kitchen in a rush.

"Yeah fine!" She yelled back up the stairs. "Just knocked over this stupid pile of boxes. Who the hell stacked them there? Bloody stupid place to put them!"

A smile began to tug at the corner of Peter's mouth. He thought it probably best not to point out at this moment that since Assumpta was the only person who ever really went down into the cellar that she was the most likely candidate for stacking the offending boxes.

Some choice words continued to emanate from below stairs as Peter continued to stare down into the dimly lit cellar.

"You want a hand down there?" he called.

"No I'm fine" she replied in a hard, slightly annoyed voice.

Peter stood and listened to a series of grunts and straining noises, plus some more swearing, as Assumpta continued to struggle with the heavy boxes.

Peter was constantly amused and frustrated in equal measures at Assumpta's unflinching desire to be independent. The woman never asked for help, even when she obviously needed it.

When another bang came from below, Peter thought enough was enough and began to descend the stairs.

"Look I won't tell anyone that you asked for my help"

"I didn't ask for help!" Assumpta replied sharply, looking up at Peter from behind a pile of barrels.

Then she realized what was about to happen, nanoseconds before it actually did. But she couldn't form the words quick enough to stop it.

"Peter! Don't close the…!"

But it was too late. As Peter had ducked his head down, his hand accidently knocked the trap door and it swung shut over his head with a loud bang.

_Would love to know what you think _


	2. Chapter 2

Peter, still standing halfway up the stairs, looked down into Assumpta's reddening face as her nostrils began to flare. He knew that look; everyone in the village knew that look.

"What did you do that for you great eejit?!"

"What's the problem?" he replied, confused by Assumpta's anger.

This just seemed to irritate Assumpta even more.

"What?" Peter climbed to the bottom of the stairs and looked at her with a confused expression, "Close the door? I didn't mean too. Anyway what's the problem, it opens from the inside."

"Usually yes" Assumpta replied in a soft, menacing voice. She slowly moved towards Peter in such a way that Peter began to subconsciously back away from her.

"But the latch is broken," her voice began to rise in volume with each syllable. "If it shuts completely it won't open again. So what the hell did you close it for!?"

She practically spat the last words out as she moved past Peter and re-climbed the stairs. At the top she tried, in vain, to push the trap door open from underneath.

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Peter hotly replied, beginning to feel really annoyed that he was somehow getting the blame for this. "How was I supposed to know it was broken? Look it can't be completely stuck, get down and let me try."

"Oh yeah because you're such a Mr. Universe aren't ya?" Assumpta replied acidly as she moved off the stairs to let him try.

Peter gave her an exasperated look as he walked past her and up the stairs. He pushed with all his might but the door wouldn't budge. He turned around to see Assumpta looking up at him with her arms crossed and an annoying "I told you so" expression on her face.

Rather than look at the accusing stare Assumpta was fixing him with, Peter looked around the cellar from his position at the top of the stairs. It was a small, cold, cramped, poorly lit space, full of crates of alcohol.

"Well, at least we won't go thirsty" He remarked down at her, trying to deflect some of her anger. It didn't work. Instead she let out a loud huff and rolled her eyes, as she turned away from him in frustration. She made her way to the small clearing in the middle of the cellar and sat down heavily on the floor as Peter climbed off the stairs and followed her lead.

God only knew how long they had been sitting there in silence. For his part Peter was unwilling to speak in case he said the wrong thing and angered her further.

Abruptly Assumpta stood and moved away into one of the dark corners of the cellar. Peter watched her rustling around behind some crates before she came back to where he was sitting with an old, large, woolen blanket in one arm and a six pack of bottled water in the other, kicking along a box of crisps at her feet.

"If we are going to be here for a while, might as well get comfortable." Peter was glad to hear some of the irritation had left her voice. She seemed almost resigned to the situation they now found themselves in.

The truth was whilst she wasn't as angry, she was anything but calm about their situation. She didn't blame Peter anymore, (well maybe only a little bit), but she knew there was no way out of this until they were discovered in the morning. That meant spending the whole night with Peter, locked underground. Yes, she definitely wasn't calm.

"How long do you think we'll be here?" Peter asked the obvious question, both hoping and dreading the answer, his voice slightly hoarse as he watched her spread the blanket on the floor in front of him.

Assumpta looked up at him, noting the nervousness in his voice.

"It depends. The lights are still on in the bar but I have already locked the door, and it's not unknown for me to go to bed and leave the bar lights on. So my guess is we are stuck down here until Niamh comes to open up at 9am tomorrow morning."

"Oh" Peter simply replied, as the sudden realization of their situation hit him. He and Assumpta, alone, all night, with no interruptions. He had an odd feeling flow through him at that moment as he watched Assumpta try and make the small available space more comfortable, almost like a premonition; this night was either going to be the stuff of his dreams…or his nightmares.

_Sorry it's a short chapter, just trying to set the scene :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_From here on in the real angst begins, and I doubt it will stop much before this story does…fair warning!_

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The silence stretched between them as Assumpta continued to busy herself clearing a small space around the blanket they were now both sitting on. She handed Peter a bottle of water.

"Thanks" he replied, still having trouble hiding his nervousness.

Assumpta knew how he felt, she could feel the building tension between them too as the silence continued. Perhaps this was as good a time as any to try and recapture the conversation from earlier in the night, at least they wouldn't be interrupted this time. And it was painfully obvious to Assumpta that Peter needed to talk through what was eating him up on the inside.

"So, how are you?" She inwardly cringed at how ridiculous this sounded in the circumstances.

Peter automatically replied without looking up, "Fine"

"Oh yeah?" Assumpta, not convinced, looked straight at him, forcing Peter to return her look. He had the unnerving feeling she could see right into his soul. Her dark eyes held his and he knew in that moment he couldn't hide from her, he didn't want to hide from her.

"No. I'm not fine" he whispered, her piercing gaze breaking down his defenses. The repressed feelings of the last few weeks came rushing back to the surface and his eyes began to fill with tears. He looked down at his hands, nestled in his lap, trying to regain his composure.

Assumpta looked on, the turmoil he was going through written all over his face, and her heart ached for him. She wanted to reach out to him, take him in her arms, comfort him, but she sensed that this would only make his internal struggle worse, not to mention her own.

So she sat there, in silence, and waited for him to continue.

Peter wanted so badly to tell her everything, everything he was feeling and thinking, but still he couldn't. This pitched battle had been raging in his head for months now, probably longer, but the sudden loss of his mum had just bought things into sharper focus.

As a priest death had always been a part of his day to day life, but he had never actually dwelled on it before. He was confident in the resurrection and all he believed, at least he had been, and that was the problem. Before he hadn't needed to think about it, his faith mapped it out for him. But recent events, the sweating statue and Assumpta's marriage, had been the last straw in an ever heavier load he felt was weighing on his mind.

Then his mum, well that just seemed to bring the cruel reality of the world crashing down on top of him so hard he buckled under the weight. Was God punishing him for his thoughts? Could God truly be that cruel? His mum had been the only person who ever really understood, the only one who ever really gave him support and now she was gone. He had never felt more alone in his life.

He wanted to talk about her but was terrified of the emotions it would unleash, the truths it might reveal. But this time there was literally nowhere to run. He had to open up about all this before it ate him up from the inside out.

"My mum loved the stories I would tell her about BallyK." He quietly spoke, his voice watery but wistful, as he started by focusing on happier memories.

Assumpta inwardly smiled, glad that he was finally opening up about his feelings. "Well there are plenty of those around here" she softly replied.

"Yeah, I really think she thought I made half of them up" Peter chuckled to himself.

"Oh yeah?" Assumpta smiled back, glad Peter was able to focus on the good times.

"Yeah definitely. Especially when I would write and tell her Padraig's latest joke, or what Liam and Donal had gotton up to that week."

Assumpta chuckled. "Well the boys are always good for some comic relief".

There was a short pause and Peter began to feel the familiar ache in his throat as the tears threatened again.

"Did you write to her often?" Assumpta asked, keen to keep him talking.

Peter cleared the lump developing in his throat, "Oh yeah all the time. I'd tell her what I'd been up to, and how everyone was".

"Who's everyone?" she asked, mildly confused.

"People here in the village"

"But she never met any of us" Assumpta replied in a surprised tone.

"That didn't matter to her, she felt like she knew you all through my letters; she would always ask how everyone was doing."

Assumpta was oddly comforted by the idea of an old lady across the sea concerned for the welfare of people she hadn't even met. She could see where Peter got his kind heart from.

Though at this moment another thought came unbidden into her head, a question she was dying to know the answer too, but didn't dare ask. So instead she kept quiet.

Peter could sense her sudden unease and thought he knew why, so he took a leap of faith and voiced what he thought she was thinking.

"I told her about you."

Assumpta looked up into his eyes, unnerved at how well he could read her mind. She had always been told, by Niamh, her mum, Leo, that her true feelings were a well guarded secret, that she was a closed book. But not to Peter it would seem.

"Oh yeah?" she replied in a quiet, slightly elevated voice. Curiosity won out over her nerves and she couldn't stop herself from asking, "What did you tell her?"

"As much as I dared…in the beginning anyway" Peter replied, looking at Assumpta calmly, more calmly than he felt, as his heart began to race. It always happened when he and Assumpta managed to get themselves into a situation where their seemingly innocent conversation took a deep and dangerous turn towards something more real.

"What do you mean?" Assumpta was desperately trying to keep her voice calm as her own heart began racing. She didn't dare look into Peter's eyes as he spoke.

"At first there wasn't much to tell, so I told her everything. Then, when there were things to tell, I told her nothing." Peter whispered.

Assumpta knew what he meant. When this 'something' between them had began to evolve, that was when it was most important to keep it a secret; the lying had started, both to everyone around them, and to themselves.

"Well I…"

But Assumpta's reply to Peter's revelation was cut short as a small bang rang through the cellar and the lights went out, plunging everything into compete darkness.

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_As always would love to know what you think_

_I will definitely be posting another chapter over the Easter weekend (perhaps even two if people want :) )_


	4. Chapter 4

_A happy Easter to you all, and here is my chocolate coated gift to you :)_

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"Oh for God's sake" Assumpta whispered under her breath, annoyed at the compounding difficulties this night kept throwing their way.

The darkness was absolutely complete, no light was coming from anywhere, Assumpta couldn't even see the end of her nose.

As she lost the use of her eyes so all her other senses picked up and she heard Peter somewhere near her move on the blanket and say in a slightly panicked voice, "Assumpta? You ok?"

"Yeah of course I'm ok. It's just the bloody fuse again!" She began to crawl around the small space on her hands and knees in a vain attempt to find the fuse.

Peter stayed where he was, completely frozen in the sudden darkness. He could feel his heart begin to race and his breathing becoming shallow, and this time it had nothing to do with his proximity to Assumpta. The truth was, something he had never admitted to anyone before, he was scared of the dark. It was an irrational and childish fear, but he couldn't help it. He felt exposed and suddenly alone as the impenetrable darkness began to close in on his mind.

Unaware of Peter's predicament, Assumpta continued to feel around on the floor for the fuse. But then she heard Peter somewhere near her begin to breathe very rapidly.

"Peter are you ok?" She turned her head towards the sound, slightly concerned.

"Yeah I'm fine" he replied in a strangled sort of voice. It was vey apparent to Assumpta he was anything but fine.

"You sure? Did you knock into one of the barrels or something?" thinking that he had injured himself in the dark.

"No, no I'm ok, honest" But then she heard him begin to take deep, steadying breaths and knew there was more to this than he was letting on.

Peter was desperately trying to stop himself from panicking. He could feel his mind slipping into a space he couldn't control and he was anxious for that not to happen, especially in front of Assumpta. He screwed up his fists, his nails digging painfully into the flesh of his palms, anything for his mind to focus on that wasn't the impenetrable darkness surrounding him.

Then he felt something warm brush up against his arm and he jumped so violently that he thought his heart would explode.

"Peter its ok, it's just me." Assumpta had carefully felt her way towards him, following the sound of his shaking breaths, and reached out for him in the darkness, her hand coming into contact with his upper arm. She guessed what was happening, she had seen the beginnings of panic attacks before, and she couldn't stand to hear Peter suffer.

Now she had found him she slowly ran her hand down the length of this arm, until she reached his tightly clenched fist. Gently she laid her hands over his, as he gradually began to relax at her touch, his fingers unfolding slightly so that she was able to take his hand properly. Neither could see the others face, but the physical contact between them was intensified by their heightened senses in the dark. Peter closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of her hand in his as he attempted to get his breathing under control. He could feel the warm trail her hand had left down his arm as her fingers wrapped around his. He focused on the feeling of her touching him with his entire mind, something he never normally let himself do. As he did, he felt the panic slowly began to recede.

"That's it Peter, just breath. I'm here" She whispered reassuringly, as his heart continued to beat erratically. He had never felt so elated and terrified at the same time. The combination of his fear and the electrifying feeling of Assumpta so close made him feel dizzy.

"Are you ok?" She whispered.

Peter nodded before realizing she couldn't see him. He whispered "Yes" in such a fragile voice Assumpta's heart opened up to him even more.

"I can't see to fix the fuse Peter, I need to find some candles. I know they're down here. Are you ok to do that with me?" She spoke slowly, softly, to make sure he understood.

He didn't reply, just squeezed her hand tighter. She took this as a good sign and gently pulled him up and slowly led him through the cellar. She knew this room like the back of her hand and mostly avoided bumping into anything. Peter on the other hand was not so lucky, or dextrose, and hit his shins a few times on the way. Each time was accompanied by a sharp intake of breath, the panic beginning to bubble up inside of him. But Assumpta's firm grip on his hand kept him from succumbing to the darkness completely.

Assumpta inwardly thanked her good sense at storing the candles and matches in the same box as she fumbled in the dark until she found the box she needed.

"Peter, I just need both hands for a moment, to light a candle" she softly spoke.

She didn't want to break contact with him completely, she was afraid of his reaction if he was left unanchored in the dark. So, focusing on what Peter needed from her in that moment, she squashed the cautionary voice in her head and bought his hand slowly forward, untangling their fingers and placing his warm hand lightly on the small of her back.

At first Peter was unsure where his hand was headed, but as it made contact with the soft fabric of Assumpta's shirt he took in another sharp breath. He could feel the curve of her spine under his palm and the slight curve of her hip with his trembling fingertips. He had never touched her so intimately before, as he felt his mind begin to fog up with the sensation, his previous panic all but forgotten. In bringing his hand to her like this he had moved much closer to her, so close that he could feel, rather than see, her in front of him. His body knew she was near him, as it always did. His nerve endings came alive, his hair stood on end and his body began to hum. He took a deep breath and her musky scent invaded his lungs so fully he nearly choked as his throat constricted and his mouth went dry.

For Assumpta's part she was having a hard time focusing on the task of striking the match. All she could feel was the deep warmth of Peter's hand as it radiated through her thin shirt. His hand was so broad in comparison to the small of her back that she felt enveloped by him. A powerful urge moved through her, an urge to move around to face him, forcing his hand to travel further around her waist as she moved. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck and all she wanted was to back up into him, to get closer to him. It would be so easy; it could be done almost innocently, just to see his reaction. No one was here to see, they couldn't even see themselves...

But she didn't, she couldn't, and instead tried to turn her mind back to the task at hand. Eventually she managed to get her trembling hands to strike a match successfully and as she lit the candle the small flame softly illuminated the darkness around them.

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_Reviews very very welcome :)_


	5. Chapter 5

As the soft candlelight gently illuminated a very small space around them, Assumpta stood very still, her back still to Peter, reluctant to break the contact between them. They had never been so close, their whole bodies only inches apart. She could feel its effects all over her, could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head. It was like every cell in her body knew its perfect match was close, humming in anticipation.

Peter was just as reluctant to move. The candle in front of him gave Assumpta an almost ethereal glow, the edges of her hair burning bright as her features where bathed in shadow. He didn't want to remove his hand from her back but he also knew he couldn't stay like this forever. Instead he just stared down at the back of her neck, felling her ragged breathing though her shirt.

Assumpta was the first to break. Her heart could not take this slow, painful contact any more so she took a small step forward causing Peter's hand to fall away from her. She slowly turned to face him, the candlelight throwing their faces into sharp relief, making the longing in both their eyes even harder to hide.

"I'll just look for the fuse" She spoke softly, her voice thick with emotion.

Peter nodded and moved slightly to let her pass him, careful not to touch her, afraid his heart wouldn't be able to take it. He closed his eyes tightly against the torrent of feeling cascading through him, trying to get his rampaging emotions under control. He had gone from complete panic to all consuming desire in the space of minutes and his frayed mind couldn't take it.

He took some steadying breaths to clear his head before he went to help Assumpta.

"It seems it's gone for good this time" Assumpta said as Peter approached, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. As Peter looked on he could clearly see that the fuse Assumpta had found was now completely useless and no amount of fiddling with it was going to turn the lights back on.

Trying to think practically, rather than emotionally, about the situation they now found themselves in, Assumpta commented, "There are only 3 candles in here, so probably best to light them one at a time, get the longest amount of light from them."

Again Peer refrained from talking, afraid he couldn't trust his own voice, and simply nodded. Assumpta placed the box of candles near the edge of the blanket and the lit one on a small dish in the center. She then sat down near the edge of the blanket, and lent her back against a pile of boxes. Peter looked down at her nervously and went to sit next to her before thinking better of it and instead sitting a few feet away.

Assumpta didn't comment on his hesitation, in fact she thought it best to keep their distance. The soft candlelight was hardly going to help the thickening tension between them. Neither knew how much longer they could hold this fragile pretence together, any touch could be the catalyst that sent them falling over the edge, and what lay beyond that, neither one knew.

Through the haze of feelings inside his head at this moment Peter felt the urge to speak. He needed to clarify his earlier behavior and to explain the irrational fear that overtook him when the cellar suddenly went dark around them. The fear that Assumpta, to his embarrassment, had witnessed firsthand. She deserved an explanation from him.

"It's not that I'm afraid of the dark in a conventional sort of way" he began, staring intently at the flickering candle, wondering how to put this into words for her to understand.

Assumpta looked up slightly startled. She didn't think he would want to talk about what happened.

"Oh yeah?" she replied lightly, not wanting to embarrass him. She sensed that he was about to confess something that, for good or bad, spoke to who he truly was and she didn't want to stop that.

"Have you ever heard of the phrase 'the devil's in the details'?" Peter said, in such a quiet voice that Assumpta had to strain to hear him.

"Of course"

"…Well for me the devil's in the darkness" he whispered back.

Assumpta let his statement sink in. It was clear by his tone that it had cost him a lot to confess that to her. However she was slightly confused by it and needed to make sure she understood what he meant.

"You mean the _actual_ devil?"

"No" Peter quickly replied, wondering how to explain this without sounding completely crazy.

"Well, I mean, when I was younger, yeah, I guess it was the actual devil. My grandfather was very religious, 'the zealot' my Dad called him. He used to terrify me as a kid with stories of hell and demons. In his stories these demons would always come for you at night. It was only in the dark that the demons could see the things you hid during the day, the bad thoughts and deeds….and that's when they took you."

Peter cleared his thickening throat. He couldn't remember the last time he had actively thought about this, and he knew he had never voiced them to a single soul before. But somehow Assumpta was different. Her presence was reassuring. He had an urge to keep talking, to tell her everything, it felt like a release. So, still staring into the candlelight ahead, he continued.

"When I got older I began to build my own perspective of God, a much kinder and forgiving God than my grandfather's, and his stories became less literal to me. But the underlying fear they created has always been there. But now instead of the real devil, I guess it's more the devils in my own mind, the things that torment me, which I'm afraid of….I guess I'm still holding onto what my grandfather taught me; I'm still holding onto my childish fear that the darkness reveals my innermost thoughts that I try so hard to hide."

Assumpta sat there listening, captivated by his words. She didn't dare speak in case she broke the spell. But then Peter turned his head towards her and he looked at her like he was expecting an answer, some sort of reassurance. She didn't know what to say in the face of such honesty, so she tried to be reassuring, "But the darkness can also be freeing, almost liberating don't you think? You can be anyone you want to be in the dark."

"Yeah but that's the problem" Peter said in such a sad voice that it broke Assumpta's heart a little. "In the darkness you are confronted with who you really are, there's nowhere to hide and nothing to hide from but your true self and your true feelings. You are completely exposed."

Peter looked up at her as he finished talking and his eyes, eerily bright in the candlelight, focused Assumpta with such a piercing gaze that it made her breath catch in her throat. It was like she could suddenly feel this otherworldly presence as he spoke, as if he had managed to summon these 'demons' between them just by looking at her. A shiver shot down the length of her spine. Her mind became clouded with unbidden images of herself and Peter being exposed in the dark together, of tangled limbs and soft moans, of wet kisses and hot sweat…the demons of Peter's imagination were beginning to come forth unbidden, into the space between them.

"I know it's stupid" He remarked suddenly, breaking their eye contact and staring back towards the small light.

Assumpta mentally shook herself, trying to bring her rampaging thoughts back to earth.

"It's not stupid" she whispered. "It's completely understandable if you spend your life as constrained as you do."

She hadn't meant it to come out like that but she couldn't help how she felt. Their situation was taking its toll on both of them and she knew who she blamed.

Peter let out a small grunt at her remark, which Assumpta didn't know was in agreement or not. To be honest, Peter didn't know himself.

She tried to clarify what she meant, "What I mean is you live your life in accordance with such a restrictive set of rules that there is no room to express yourself. You're made to feel guilty about trying to be yourself."

"I express myself" Peter replied in a slightly sulky voice, annoyed that Assumpta had somehow found the heart of the problem so easily.

"You know what I mean. There's a difference between believing in something, adhering to a faith and letting it completely rule every moment of your life."

"But if you don't let it permeate into all areas of your life then aren't you just being hypocritical?" Peter replied, wondering if he really believed that anymore.

There was a short pause as she turned her head away from him, and stared into the dancing flame.

Then she spoke in a soft, sad whisper, "You can serve God without being a priest, Peter"

The truth of her statement stung deep, and was left to hang there, in the silent air between them.

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_Would love to know what you think of this chapter, especially my explanation for Peter's phobia. I tried to make it a more spiritual/irrational fear rather than a fear based on a single traumatic experience. I thought it would fit better into Peter's emotional state in the story._

_Hope you all had a great Easter break :)_


	6. Chapter 6

A long time passed in silence as Peter stared into the rooms only light source.

He let his mind drift over their earlier conversation. Somehow his personal confession had turned into a painful discussion about their situation, as it so often did with them.

He thought back on what Assumpta had said,

_"You can serve God without being a priest, Peter."_

If only it was that simple. It was true he could serve God without being a priest, but not in the same way. Would it be cheating to give up so easily? God knew it hadn't been easy for him so far, and what type of priest was he if his heart wasn't really in it anymore? Did that just make him the type of hypocrite he despised?

He was drawn away from his troubling thoughts when Assumpta suddenly moved forward towards the flickering light. She grabbed the second of the three candles and lit it, placing it next to the other, which, Peter now noticed, had almost completely burned down. As she moved back to her seat Peter watched her, transfixed by her highlighted movement in the candlelight. He noticed that she was shivering slightly.

"Are you cold?" he asked, still watching her intently.

"What?" she replied, startled by the sudden break in the quiet.

"Are you cold?"

"Oh, no. No I'm fine."

Peter could see she was lying, her stubborn streak coming through again. The familiar urge to protect her washed through him but this time he didn't have the will power to fight that instinct. He needed to be close to her, needed to feel some sort of human connection. His mind was too much of a mess to remind him why he shouldn't. So wordlessly he stood up and moved to the other side of the blanket.

Assumpta wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. She watched as he picked up the lit candle and placed it on the stone floor near her. Then, without saying a word, he sat right next to her, so the whole right side of his body was up against hers. He pulled the end of the blanket they were sitting on up over them and moved the candle back by their feet.

Peter was careful not to look at her, afraid of what he might see if he did. His damaged heart was crying out for closeness, and this was as close as he dared to get. He felt the warmth of her side up against him and his body ached at the intimacy.

Peter continued to stare into the flame in front of him. He could feel Assumpta watching him, but he didn't turn to face her.

Assumpta wondered what it was he hoped to achieve by moving so close. Was he testing her? The thickness of the blanket around them was mingling their body heat together and she instantly felt warmer and safer. She felt her skin begin to tingle as she refocused her gaze ahead. Her natural instinct tried to lean her into his side, to get closer to him, whilst her brain kept her sitting rigidly still, afraid to move.

Suddenly something brushed up against her hand which was resting on her thigh. She jumped slightly before realizing it was Peter as he gently took her hand under the blanket. She looked back towards him, wide eyed at this simple yet bold gesture, but he still had his eyes firmly fixed on the candle.

Assumpta took hold of his hand, threading her fingers through his, reveling in how well they fitted together, and, like Peter, just stared into the light. This simple gesture, a symbol of comfort, friendship, or something more she didn't know, and in that moment she didn't care. She just let her mind drift over the warmth that invaded her at his touch.

They sat there like this, lost in their own thoughts, holding hands in the candlelight, for a long time, until Peter's broken voice cut through the silence.

"Does it get any easier?" Assumpta didn't need to ask what he meant.

"Yes and no." she softly replied. She couldn't lie to him. She didn't like talking about her parents, she never really had. But this was different, Peter was always the exception.

"What do you mean?" he gently pushed her.

Assumpta cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the focus on her own past. "Well, of course the loss becomes less painful over time, but you always miss them."

"I suppose." Peter was staring intently ahead, a sad expression on his face as Assumpta spoke.

"But it does get easier Peter, I promise."

"Yeah?" He turned his face to her and there was a real sense of hope in his voice, like he was desperate to have something to hold onto at that moment, some promise that it would get better.

"Yeah, it does. But it takes time, your own time. There's no magic pill that's going to make it better. Grief, it's very personal." Assumpta tuned her head away from him as she felt the corners of her eyes begin to sting. It had been so long since she had thought about her mum that the emotion took her by surprise.

Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Peter, "Assumpta?"

She cleared her throat and turned back to him, a false smile on her face, "Yeah?"

"How did you get through it?"

She looked forward again as she thought about how to answer this question. She didn't really know how she had got through it. There had been a pub to run and a life to salvage and that took up so much time and energy that there wasn't much time left for dwelling on her grief.

"I don't know. Just got on with it all I suppose. Though the loneliness doesn't fade so easily."

"I'm always here you know." Peter softy replied, looking at the side of her face.

"Sorry, I don't need confession," she replied in a light tone and regretted it as soon as it had left her mouth. It was her lame attempt at humor, to deflect the conversation away from her feelings, her natural defense mechanism, whenever anyone go too close to the truth.

But Peter knew her better than to let her deflect the conversation that easily. He ignored her last comment and continued to look at her. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her face.

"I don't mean confession. If you have faith, you'll make it through."

Assumpta felt the blood in her veins start to pump faster as anger flared inside her. _As long as she had faith_? How dare he bring religion and God into such a personal conversation they were having! Why did he have to turn into _Father_ Peter whenever they got close to something real?

"Well my faith in God left me a long time ago, _Father_. I'm completely alone in this world." She said in a low, hard voice, refusing to look into his eyes.

She abruptly let go of his hand under the blanket and bought it up to her face, angrily wiping away her traitorous tears.

Then she heard his soft voice next to her, pleading her to understand, "I mean faith in _us_. You're not alone, you'll always have me."

She turned her head sharply at this last comment and locked his gaze. His eyes conveyed the truth of his words. He had meant them and he wanted her to know that. As they continued to look at each other Peter began to feel the familiar power of her gaze wash over him so he quickly turned his head away before he said more he shouldn't.

Assumpta looked at his profile in the soft light. Then she turned too and they both sat there, next to each other, lost again in their own thoughts, wondering how long this dance around the truth could continue between them.

What felt like a long time passed in silence, both too caught up in their own emotions to speak. Until Peter whispered, so quietly Assumpta wasn't sure he'd even spoken,

"I miss her so much."

Assumpta turned her head towards him and saw tears falling from his full eyes and trickling down his cheeks. She knew what she needed to do, what he needed more than anything at the moment, and it wasn't hollow words. He needed a friend, he needed comfort, and whatever else might be going on in her heart she couldn't deny him that. So without a second thought she put her hand around his shoulders and gently pulled him towards her.

Easily following her gentle coaxing his head came to rest on her lower shoulder as she bought her other arm around his front and held him completely in her arms, their legs still stretched out straight in front of them. As Peter's head made contact with her the floodgates opened and he could no longer hold back the torrent of emotion threatening to spill over.

He sobbed, uncontrollably; for his mother, his vocation, his love, his life, and once he had begun he couldn't stop.

Assumpta held him close, making reassuring noises as she stroked his hair and placed her check on the top of his head. She closed her eyes as her own silent tears began to fall, tears for her own mother, for her own broken heart as well as his.

Peter wrapped his right arm behind her back, and his left arm across her waist and clung to her almost possessively, holding onto her for dear life as his sobs became deeper and harder. His throat burnt with the force of his emotions, so long had they been waiting for release. He felt like he was drowning in his sorrow, Assumpta's arms the only thing stopping him from going under completely.

After a time he began to feel lighter, freer and calmer, as his sobs subsided. Still he clung to her, he didn't want to let her go. He turned his head slightly and nestled his face into the crook of her neck, desperate to get as close as possible to her, drinking in the smell of her skin, allowing the soothing effect she had over him to wash through his entire body.

Assumpta felt his face turn into her neck and she closed her eyes as a powerful feeling of longing clouded her thoughts. His wet tears fell onto her exposed skin followed by his hot breath, causing goose-bumps to rise all over her.

Peter kept his head very still, just breathing her in, letting her invade him completely. He was such a mess of emotions but there was one thing that he knew for certain in that moment; he wanted Assumpta more than anything, he needed her now like he had never needed anything in his life before. The smell of her skin wasn't enough. The light touches weren't enough to soothe him, to quench his desire for her. He needed to taste her, to touch her, skin to skin. This need invaded his mind, shutting down his rationality, as he slowly, deliberately, opened his mouth and placed his lips gently but firmly against the soft curve of her neck.

* * *

_Thank you everyone for your lovely comments. Its so great to know that there are people out there enjoying this :)_

_Please let me know what you think of this latest installment as things begin to heat up in the dark cellar... :)_


	7. Chapter 7

Assumpta froze at the sudden sensation. Had she really just felt that? Her eyes flew open, the dancing flame in front of her swimming in her vision as she felt Peter's lips caress her neck again. This time there was no mistaking his intention. This was really happening. For better or worse that final wall had been breached and it was up to her to decide what was going to happen next.

Her thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt however when she felt his lips against her for a third time, slightly higher, resting over her pulse point.

Peter could feel her blood pumping under his lips. It made him physically ache as he held her tighter. He wanted to feel her, taste more of her. He gently ran his tongue out between his teeth as his lips closed over her pulse again and when his tongue gently made contact with her skin he felt, rather than heard, her make a deep throated moan. The vibrations ran through him, liquefying his insides.

Assumpta couldn't help it. The sensation was better than any dream, better than any reality she had previously experienced. It was a painful kind of heaven and she was completely lost in the feeling.

Peter continued to plant soft wet kisses on her neck, keen to acquaint his mouth with every curve of her skin. Assumpta's brain began to shut down at the sensation. He had finally done it, finally taken that last leap and gotten of the fence. He was kissing her. She could feel his hands holding her tighter, his kisses becoming bolder, the moisture of his eyes running down his cheeks….

_Oh no…_

Her eyes flew open. This wasn't right. He had turned to her for comfort and his breaking heart was confusing his emotions. If she let this continue she would be taking advantage of his vulnerable state. He couldn't be counted on to think straight at the moment, so she had too for him. If she didn't stop this soon he would regret his actions tenfold later and she would loose him forever.

As these thoughts came rushing into her mind she used all her remaining will power and, putting her hands on his shoulders, pushed him firmly back from her.

Peter didn't know what to think. His brain was so fogged with desire he couldn't string the words together to ask. He just looked into her eyes, silently pleading her to understand how much he wanted her, how much he needed her.

Assumpta couldn't take the disappointment she saw in his eyes, so she turned her face away and stood up so quickly that the flame of the solitary candle flickered dangerously, causing deep shadows to be thrown across the room.

She ran a shaking hand through her hair as she took a few steps away from him, her back turned, keen to put as much distance between them as the small space allowed.

Peter sat, completely still, exactly where she left him, feeling the sting of the cold cellar air invade the space where Assumpta had been. He looked up at her retreating back and didn't know what to say. Had he completely misjudged her affection for him? Could he have been so wrong about it all? At this thought the blood in his veins ran cold at the prospect of losing her forever because of his rash actions, or even worse, that he may never have had her affections in the first place.

He sat back upright, bought his knees up to his chest and hugged his legs, desperately trying to hold back a new wave of tears. He heard her whisper, her back still turned to him,

"Peter…"

He didn't reply, he was too upset, too embarrassed. It hurt deeper than he ever thought possible. Her rejection compounded his grief, he felt he was being consumed by it.

"Peter, it's not right."

Still he made no response, just stared into the flame, as it danced merrily in front of him, mocking him.

Assumpta didn't know what to say to him. Her heart was breaking at the possibility that he may have kissed her in that moment out of misguided emotion rather than true affection for her. She wanted him so badly, but didn't want him to regret anything they might have together. She was so confused.

His silence encouraged her to keep talking. "I don't want you to do something you will regret. You are upset about your mum. I don't want you to get lost in your grief and regret it later."

The use of the word 'regret' seemed to break Peter from his silence. He turned his face up towards her turned back and whispered, "Regret? What do you mean regret?"

Assumpta was desperately trying to keep her voice steady, "I mean I don't want to take advantage of you. I don't want you to make any rash decisions in the state you're in."

At her words a new fog of emotion flooded Peter's mind, but this time it wasn't passion. He suddenly felt angry, really angry. Everything was going wrong in his life; his mum, his faith, his feelings for Assumpta. Assumpta had been right when she had said he lived his life by such a restrictive set of rules that he wasn't able to express himself. He felt caged, like he was suffocating under the emotions he wasn't free to express. At Assumpta's words all that pent up pressure seemed to burst forth unbidden inside of him. His vision flooded red as his hands began to tremble. She was the only thing he had left which he truly cared about and now she too was treating him like he was incapable of making decisions about his own life. He was sick of having his wants and needs blocked at every turn.

"What right do you have to tell me what decisions to make here Assumpta?!"

The anger in his voice was uncontainable. It erupted from his so violently he stood up quickly to his full height and yelled at her turned back from the other side of the small space.

Assumpta visibly flinched at the raw emotion coming from him. She had never heard him really yell before. She had never heard him so angry. It frightened her.

Peter wasn't even registering what he was saying. His inner most thoughts came racing out of his mouth, his head too clouded with anger to control what he was saying.

"I'm not the one who has made the rash decisions here! I'm not the one who ran off and got _married on a whim_!"

Assumpta inwardly recoiled at the harshness of his words. How dare he throw Leo back in her face like this? Peter wasn't the only one carrying around a magnitude of built up frustration at their situation. His life wasn't the only one falling apart at the seams.

She turned around slowly to face him. They were only a few feet apart and the candle on the floor at their feet threw an eerie half-light onto their faces, shadowing half their features. But Peter could still see her eyes glowing darkly.

"_How dare you,"_ she whispered in a low, dangerous voice. "How _dare_ you throw that back at me."

Peter stared at her defiantly, his face screwed up with anger. As stupid as it sounded he wanted her to get angry at him, to yell and scream at him. He was so sick of all the dancing around each other of the last 3 years he wanted something real between them, even if it was hatred.

"Well it's the truth!" Peter threw back at her, not attempting to moderate the volume of his voice. "You ran away and _married another man_!"

Assumpta couldn't believe what she was hearing. The full force of the Fitzgerald anger came pouring out as she dropped the quiet menacing tone and matched Peter for force and volume.

"You ran away first! You told me there was no hope for us, you didn't want me! YOU LEFT! What was I meant to do!?"

"I was confused! And I didn't expect you to go out and marry the first old boyfriend you could find! It was hardly a way to fix things WAS IT!?"

"I thought it was over! You_ told_ me it was over! You broke my heart Peter! What did you expect me to do?! Wait around and pine over you forever?!"

"_Oh please_! You couldn't wait to fall back into his arms at the first opportunity!" This was a low blow and he knew it. Deep down he also knew it wasn't true.

Assumpta saw red at these words and couldn't contain herself anymore. That he could blame her entirely for the mess they were in was unbelievable! She grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a can of beer, and threw it with all her might at Peter's head.

In the half-light Peter didn't see it quick enough and moved aside too late as the can hit him on the shoulder. He flinched at the pain it caused and looked up at Assumpta's face, contorted with rage, as she lifted another can ready to throw.

Peter felt possessed and reacted immediately, taking two long strides towards her. He stopped only inches in front of her and seized her raised wrists forcefully in his hands, causing her to drop the can she was holding. He gripped her tightly, almost painfully, and looked down into her blazing eyes, the candlelight throwing dancing shadows across their faces. They were both breathing heavily with frustration, their hot breath blowing sharply into each other's faces.

He spoke in a low, harsh voice, as he practically spat his next words at her.

"Yours wasn't the only heart that got broken Assumpta. Do you know what it was like to come back and find you married to another man? Do have _any_ idea what that _did to me_?"

He stared hard into her eyes, almost daring her to contradict him. How could she not know the pain it had caused him, her coming back here with Leo? How could she not know…

Assumpta returned his hard look, her arms still painfully held in Peter's tight grip.

"Not half as much as it did when you told me you were choosing your vocation over me. You told me you didn't want me Peter…._you didn't want me_."

The anger drained from her voice, her last words spoken very softly. The anger was replaced by a pain she had tried so hard to bury since that fateful day in her kitchen not so long ago. Her eyes stung as unbidden tears filled her vision.

Peter felt his rage melt at the sight of her. The anger had gone from her eyes, replaced by a pain _he _had caused. He couldn't bare it.

He continued to stare down at her as his face fell and he loosened his grip on her wrists. He brushed his fingers over the skin of her forearms in a light caress, and spoke to her in a much calmer, softer voice, letting his own pain come through.

"I wanted you, I always wanted you. I just didn't know how much until I came back and found you with him."

Peter's usual instinct was telling him to stop talking, to not reveal too much. But this time he ignored it. If he wasn't finally honest with her now, in this moment, it was going to eat him up inside.

"I was frightened of the feelings inside me…you _consume_ me Assumpta. You always have."

His last words where so soft she could barely hear them. His eyes too had begun to fill with tears as a single drop fell from her own eyes and slid down her cheek.

At this moment he let go of her completely and took a small step back. He knew what had just happened. He had admitted it, to himself and to her, how he truly felt. There was no going back now. He couldn't bear to continue looking at her, waiting for her rejection. It was too late for them now, he had had his chance before going on retreat and he had missed it, now it was too late. Too much pain had been caused on both sides to ever go back. So he turned his back on her and dropped his head to his chest as the tears began to flow.

Assumpta watched him turn away from her in shock. Had he really just admitted that? Could it be possible? There had been so much misunderstanding between them, so much hiding of their true feelings, that the truth was almost completely lost for them.

She knew in that moment she had to end this now, for both their sakes. She needed to be the one that took that last leap otherwise they would continue this painful dance forever.

She moved forward very slowly to Peter's turned back. She reached out her hand and placed it lightly on his shoulder. He flinched ever so slightly at the contact but didn't move away.

"Peter? Peter, look at me...please."

Peter reluctantly turned to her but refused to meet her eyes. He didn't want to see the rejection he was convinced would be there if he did.

She kept her eyes locked on his downturned face as she moved forward, painfully slowly, frightened he would back away from her.

"Look at me Peter," she whispered.

Peter slowly lifted his head to her and watched, mesmerized by the way she seemed to glow in the candlelight as she moved towards him.

"It's time to face your fears Peter," she whispered. "Time for both of us to face our fears."

The way she spoke, the seductive, finite tone, seemed to electrify the air around them. Suddenly everything came into sharp focus as their eyes drank in the sight of each other in the soft light. This was the moment, the catalyst of their future, they could both feel it. He knew if he touched those lips with his own there would be no going back.

She continued to lean in closer, and when there were only a few millimeters between their lips she softly whispered,

"_Kiss me Peter_."

Her deep, husky voice, so laden with desire, proved all the encouragement Peter needed as every defense he had ever erected around his heart against her came crashing down. He squeezed his eyes shut and, as a strangled cry emitted from the back of his throat, his lips collided passionately with hers.

As their lips finally met, the small flame at their feet flickered and died.

* * *

_I know this is a long chapter, but I couldn't think of a good place to split it without ruining the building tension._

_I would really like to know what you thought of this installment. _

_Please don't hate me for having them say such nasty things to each other! It's just I honestly think that they needed to have a real argument to get everything out in the open. I think it was important for them to have a proper fight about Leo and the pain they had caused each other. It seems the only way to get past it and move on properly. (Well it is in my head anyway!) _

_Please let me know if you liked it :)_


	8. Chapter 8

Impenetrable darkness once again filled the small cellar but this time the bodies occupying the space didn't notice.

Peter's earlier fear didn't even register. All he could feel was the soft warmth of Assumpta's lips between his own. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe. All he could do was taste her.

Assumpta had never felt anything like it. Her whole body came alive, like it had been asleep her entire life, waiting for this moment. His lips were soft and demanding and the passion was so intense it made her feel lightheaded.

Peter felt like a man possessed as he moved his lips down her jaw line and around by her ear. He couldn't believe how soft her skin was, it felt like silk under his lips. He cradled the back of her head in his broad hand as she titled her head back, allowing him greater access to her exposed skin.

Now the darkness seemed to clothe Peter in a blanket of protection, allowing him to explore her unashamedly with the senses he usually denied himself; the sense of sound… touch… taste…Assumpta's words flooded back to him, _you can be any one you want to be in the dark. _He knew this was who he wanted to be, where he wanted to be, forever.

As Peter continued to plant soft wet kisses on her skin, a soft whimper escaped Assumpta's mouth,

"_Peter…_"

Hearing his name fall from her lips like that caused a hot animalistic urge to shoot through him like he'd never felt before. All the instincts he had repressed for so long came racing to the surface and took over his brain, his hands and his mouth. He had lost all control and he didn't even care.

As their lips met again Peter felt her tongue run along his bottom lip. Instinctively he opened his mouth to her, their hot breath mingling together, both desperate to taste more of each other.

This wasn't allowed, it wasn't supposed to be happening…_it was forbidden_…

The force of their kiss had Peter pushing Assumpta backwards until her back collided softy with the pile of boxes they had earlier been leaning against. Peter pulled back slightly, his lungs screaming out for air. He bought both his hands up to the sides of her face, sweeping the pad of his thumb over her swollen lips. What he couldn't see he could feel, as her tongue delicately caught the tip of his thumb. He let out a deep throated grown as his heart constricted painfully with desire. His head was swimming, it was all too much. He wanted her so badly it hurt.

He whispered to her in a deep, husky voice, "Assumpta…_I can't fight this anymore_."

She could feel his face inches from her own, his breath tickling her neck as his fingertips burnt into her skin.

"Then don't…_give in_," her voice steady, demanding.

Her demand was his desire and this time there was no holding back. He reclaimed her mouth with his own and the power of it was electrifying.

Not wanting to break contact with his mouth Assumpta took control, grabbing hold of his shirt collar and pulling his face down with hers as she slowly bent her legs towards the floor. They barely broke contact as they went from standing to sitting back on the blanket together.

Assumpta pushed him into a sitting position, his back straight against the boxes behind them as she slowly raised her leg and straddled his lap, one thigh on either side of his. She was desperate to be as close as possible to him. The air seemed to crackle around them as their kisses became almost violent in their urgency; a flurry of teeth, tongue and moans.

Peter barely registered their relocation to the floor. He would have blindly followed Assumpta to the gates of hell in this moment. He brought his hands up to her back and ran them up and down her spine, causing Assumpta's insides to quiver. Each stroke saw Peter's hands venturing a bit lower until he finally and firmly took hold of her bum.

When Assumpta felt him grab her like that, in such a possessive way, she let out a low cry. She wanted to touch more of him and began to trail her hands down his front, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as she went.

As her fingers brushed the skin of his chest Peter instinctively squeezed her tighter as his flesh burnt under her fingertips. Assumpta placed her mouth under his Adam's apple and ran her lips along his salty skin, feeling empowered by the reactions she was eliciting in him.

Peter lent his head back against the boxes behind him, overcome by the powerful sensations coursing through him. So this is heaven, he thought. Or some kind of twisted, tormenting hell? He could feel the warmth of her body over his lap, could feel her wet mouth on his neck and her firm bum in his hands, her soft flesh yielding to his flexing fingers. His jeans had become painfully tight over his groin, he didn't know how much longer he could take this barrage on his senses.

Assumpta wanted more of him, her skin was aching to be touched, but she knew Peter would need encouragement. It was time for her to take charge. So she placed her wet lips to his ear and whispered softly, seductively,

"_Touch me Peter_."

Peter's insides seemed to liquefy. The darkness pressed in on his mind, completely obscuring all other thoughts and feelings, other than this woman in his arms, _begging _him to touch her.

With trembling hands Assumpta reached down and took hold of the bottom of her jumper. Then she slowly lifted it up over her head, leaving her in nothing but her thin white bra.

Peter couldn't really see her in front of him but he knew what was happening. He felt her shift her weight as she reached for her clothes, heard the rustle of her jumper as it fell to the floor, smelt the wave of perfume as it wafted from her newly exposed skin. His throat went dry and his breathing became very shaky. _God how he wished he could see her._ At the same time he was also glad he couldn't. The sight of her like this may have just been too much for him to bare.

Carefully Assumpta reached behind her and took one of Peter's hands in hers, bringing it slowly up in front of them. She couldn't help the nerves that crept into her mind as she made this bold move, but she held steady, keenly aware of how badly she wanted to feel his hands on her, the darkness helping to conceal any uneasiness she felt.

Slowly and deliberately she placed his hand lightly over her breast.

Peter took such a sharp intake of breath he nearly choked as all his blood seemed to rush painfully to his groin. He let out a strangled sob as he felt the curve of her breast with his fingers, the weight of it in his hand, the way her skin depressed at his touch. It was all too much.

They sat very still for a moment, both trying to control their reactions to this latest development. Gradually Peter began to experimentally flex his fingers, growing bolder as Assumpta began to softly whimper. He could feel her nipple straining against the fabric of her bra and he instinctively caught it between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed gently as his mouth captured hers, swallowing her loud cry.

She ran her hands down his chest, lower and lower, emboldened by his caresses. She wanted him to fell this good, she wanted to make him cry out with pleasure. She reached the top of his jeans, and felt him involuntarily spasm with anticipation. She slowly undid his belt and with steady fingers began to unbutton his jeans. As she slowly lowered the zip of his fly Peter's kisses instinctively increased in urgency. Her hands continued lower and lower as she pulled back the elastic band of his boxer shorts. Then, quite suddenly, she took hold of him, firmly and completely, skin on skin.

Peter wrenched his mouth away from hers suddenly and completely. His whole body went rigid, his mind went blank and his groin throbbed painfully. He squeezed, too hard, on her breast, unable to stop the knee-jerk reaction her touch had caused, as a loud and painful cry ripped from his throat, filling the darkness.

The sensation was so overwhelming it was almost unbearable and it seemed to kick start Peter's brain into semi-rational thought for the first time since he had kissed her. This was getting so far beyond his control that soon there could be no turning back.

"_Assumpta…" _he pleaded in a shaky voice, not really sure if he was asking her to stop or to keep going.

Assumpta stilled her hand. The power of Peter's reaction to her touch was frightening and seemed to disperse the fog of passion clouding her better judgment. She knew deep down they couldn't carry on to the evitable conclusion of this situation, no matter how much they might want too. It would be irreversible and likely to cause more harm than good to their, as yet, undefined relationship. Still she couldn't bring herself to stop this wonderful embrace completely. Who knew when, or even if, they would ever be like this again? She withdrew her hand from his boxers and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing him in deeply.

"Peter, tell me to stop and I will."

Peter's voice failed him. He couldn't, he knew he should but he just couldn't form the words to ask her to stop.

"_Tell me to stop_," she whispered again, almost begged. She knew if he didn't tell her to stop, she was unlikely to have the will power to do it herself.

"_I can't_," he pleaded back, in a chocked, broken voice as he stared up at the dark ceiling overhead.

"You have to tell me what you want Peter. We can't keep doing this if it's not what you want."

"It is what I want, it is," he replied quickly, desperate to reassure her how much he wanted her in this moment. But then the truth came forth in a sad whisper from his lips, "…_just not yet_."

They sat there, in each other's arms, in silence, both trying to regain control of their rampaging hearts. Assumpta knew he was right, but she still couldn't stop that small nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that there may not be a next time for them.

"It's ok Peter, I understand, I really do," she whispered back reassuringly, more reassuringly than she felt.

He continued to look upwards, his head resting on the boxes behind him, as he mumbled, sincerely, "Thank you."

There was a short pause, where nothing broke the stillness but their shaking breathes, when Peter whispered softly into the darkness, "I love you Assumpta."

He'd said it, and they were the easiest words he'd ever spoken. He felt so at peace in that moment that he was struck with the thought of why he hadn't told her before now.

His words hung in the thick air surrounding them as she raised her head from his shoulder. Her mind was reeling from his confession. She could no longer deny how she truly felt but could she really give over that last piece of her well-guarded heart to this man? Could she do it knowing that when they left this safe cocoon they had created down here, the real world would do everything in its power to keep them apart? She had never said it to anyone else in her life and truly meant it like she did now, but was that enough?

Maybe it was because her head was still clouded with lust, maybe it was because her body still throbbed from his touch, or maybe it was because the darkness afforded her the protection she needed to finally face her own fears. Whatever the reason Assumpta finally opened up that last piece of her heart.

"Peter…I love you too," and although she meant it, her heart went cold as an unbidden feeling crept into her soul that by finally facing her own fears she was setting herself up for an even greater fall.

* * *

_So sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! I kept rereading it and tweaking it, never really satisfied, and very very nervous about it. So I forced myself to stop messing with it and posted it._

_So now Assumpta too has had to face her own inner demons in the darkness. __Please let me know what you think. Do you think I made the right choice in stopping them from going all the way? I think perhaps it was more plausible in the dynamic I had created between them. Or perhaps you think I took them too far? Arghh very nervous about the sexy stuff! Please let me know what you thought, as always your reviews make my day :)_


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